


somebody to love (to hold you)

by orphan_account



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M, Making Out, eames has a lip tattoo and arthur is scalpt, they’re hella cute ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-16 22:14:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13063239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He sniffs, pinching his lower lip and pulling it down until a small, black lightning bolt becomes visible.Eames has an inner lip tattoo and Arthur can’t stop gaping.





	somebody to love (to hold you)

**Author's Note:**

> nidhdhjs i need to maybe chill out lol

“You’re joking.”

“I was young,” Eames shrugs, “and stupid and it hurts too much to have it removed.”

He grins wide enough that his crooked tooth is visible and suddenly Arthur is drawn to his lips, rosy and plush and hiding a great secret.

“Show me,” he says and Eames stands from where he’s lazily propped on the bed, tugging his frayed sweatpants up.

He sniffs, pinching his lower lip and pulling it down until a small, black lightning bolt becomes visible.

Eames has an inner lip tattoo and Arthur can’t stop gaping.

The more he stares, the more he realizes it’s actually kind of hot. The idea of tattooing inside your mouth is dumb but the small bolt in Eames’ mouth is charming and rugged in an infuriating, Eames type of way. Eames, who has always been a bit of a tall, brutish guy has a small tattoo in a delicate, sensitive place.

Arthur quite likes it.

“How come I’ve never seen it?” He demands, fingertips pressing into the corners of Eames’ lower lip in order to examine it closely.

 

“It’s rather small,” Eames says as best he can with Arthur’s fingers pressing into his mouth. He pulls away from Arthur’s prying fingers and falls back into the bed, fumbling for the remote.

“Didn’t realize you were so invested in my bad life decisions,” Eames laughs and Arthur rolls his eyes, flopping down next to him. He tugs on Eames’ shirt, pulling him on top and kissing him breathless.

Just like that, the tattoo is forgotten.

-

He forgets about it for the next week or so until they come back from a messy job, tired and grim, and collapse on the hotel bed.

It’s soft and pillowy and Arthur is close to falling asleep but he feels Eames pulling his leather shoes off, strong yet nimble fingers working on the laces as he carefully sets each shoe down. Arthur sits up, shrugging his jacket off and losing his tie, watching Eames take his own jacket off and unbutton his shirt.

“Bed,” he grunts and Eames looks up, eyes crinkling as he smiles, something soft and wonderful.

“How charming,” he jokes and his smile stretches into a grin and Arthur can’t help but be annoyed at how cheerful Eames can be even after a botched job.

Eames climbs into the bed, leg swinging over Arthur’s hips as he hunches down slightly, fumbling as their mouths meet.

His mouth is warm and his kiss is sweet and Arthur remembers Eames’ lovely tattoo as he sucks gently on his lower lip. Eames gasps softly, his hand tightening in Arthur’s hair and he takes it as his cue to continue.

Heat pools in his stomach when Eames makes a strained noise; Arthur reaches between them and into his pants, fingers skimming the elastic of Eames’ boxers. He can feel Eames’s thumb pressing into the dip of his dimple, pressing hard when Arthur bites his lip hard enough for a faint coppery taste to fill his mouth.

“Eager,” Eames breathes against his mouth, fingers trembling slightly as he unbuttons Arthur’s shirt.

“What can I say?” Arthur mumbles, “I’m a weak man.”

Eames is big but Arthur is strong, strong enough to push Eames off and beside him, hands pushing his knees apart insistently as he settles in the crook of his legs.

He wonders if he could feel the outline of the tattoo with his tongue and though he can’t, Eames whimpers hard when he tugs it between his teeth.

They pull away briefly and Arthur drinks in the sight before him; Eames cheeks are flushed, eyes hooded and mouth bitten and swollen and red. He looks unfairly handsome.

“Well don’t stop now,” Eames mumbles, voice low. He shuffles a little, sitting up on his elbows watching Arthur between his legs.

Eames has a dumb tattoo and wonderful hair and hazy eyes and soft lips and Arthur wonders briefly how he managed to be the one to witness it all.

“What’re you thinking about?” Eames asks, squinting. The crinkles by his eyes are horribly endearing.

“Nothing,” Arthur replies, two fingers slipping under Eames chin and pulling him close.

He kisses Eames again.


End file.
